A Series of Cliches
by thesilentlamb
Summary: A series of cliched moments between Sarah Jane and Alan Jackson, written purely for the self-indulgent fun of it. Several guest stars will eventually appear. Please read, review, and leave a suggestion for the next oneshot. Rated K for now, but that may change!
1. Chapter 1

**Right. I'm in the mood to write something completely clichéd and cheesy, totally lacking in any semblance of a plot. It comes as welcome relief between the chapters of a longer fic. And while I can make this work with Sarah Jane, for some reason in my mind it simply doesn't work with the Doctor (well, most of the time). So Alan Jackson is going to be my fallback for this story, which may well become a series of oneshots if anyone wants it to. **

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**This one takes place sometime after Alan Jackson finds out about the existence of aliens; I'm assuming for the purposes of this story that he was involved in several other events before leaving for America.**

_**Injured**_

"So, no more invasions for a while?" Maria asked hopefully, her eyes on Mr Smith's screen as he charted the course of the latest aliens on their way out of the atmosphere.

"That is correct Maria; there is no more alien activity detected in the immediate vicinity at present."

"Well, I guess that's our cue to leave then," Alan said, throwing an arm around Maria's shoulder and beginning to steer her out of the attic.

Sarah Jane watched him carefully and spoke as he turned to leave.

"Actually, could I have a word, Alan?"

Alan caught the look she sent him and nodded.

"You go home Maria, I'll catch you up."

"I'll walk you home," Clyde offered in a fit of gallantry and he and Luke led the way down the stairs, Maria following them after a confused look between her father and Sarah Jane.

Alan closed the door and turned back to Sarah Jane.

"I'm fine, really," he said firmly, "it's just a graze."

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the arm of the sofa.

"Sit," she ordered him.

"But-"

"Sit_ down._"

Alan knew when he was beaten. He perched on the arm of the sofa and waited while Sarah Jane pulled a huge first aid kit out of her desk drawer before turning back to him. Her eyes strayed to his chest and she looked suddenly awkward; it wasn't a look she often wore and Alan, to his surprise, found it rather endearing.

"You'll have to…" she trailed off. He decided to rescue her and obligingly lifted the hem of his t shirt, pulling it up before becoming stuck halfway, wincing in pain.

Sarah Jane took hold of the t shirt and lifted it up carefully before tugging it over his head and discarding it on the sofa, and then turned her attention to the ugly graze on Alan's ribs.

"It's fine, really," he tried to assure her, "it's not deep, it'll heal quickly enough."

"But it won't Alan, that's the thing. It's got alien bacteria in it, it needs cleaning with a proper antiseptic or you'll end up with a nasty infection."

"Oh." He answered; there wasn't much he could argue with there.

He watched Sarah Jane as she busied herself with the first aid kit; pulling out gauze and tape, then flicking through assorted bottles of various colours.

"Alien antiseptics?" he questioned, "is there anything you _don't_ have in this attic?"

Sarah Jane chuckled and selected a tiny bottle full of bright blue liquid, lifting it to the light to read it carefully. She unscrewed the top and tipped a small amount onto a swab before turning back to him. That awkward look was back on her face again and as she scrutinised his chest he felt suddenly exposed himself.

"Can you move your arm for me?" she asked, and it struck him that despite her seeming capability to do pretty much anything she turned her hand to, the role of nurse really didn't suit her at all. He moved his arm back, leaning his weight on it and exposing his injured side to her. Sarah Jane took a step forward and stood between his legs.

"This might sting a bit," she admitted before pressing the swab to his injury. Alan sucked in a breath and she saw his knuckles whiten against the arm of the sofa. He reached up with his other hand and took hold of her shoulder to steady himself. In an effort to take his mind off the pain he watched her, cataloguing things about her appearance that he hadn't taken note of before. Her head was inclined, her brow furrowed as she concentrated on what she was doing, her face partially obscured by her thick hair. She was older than she looked, he knew that; but she really was rather pretty and her age suited her. Her hip pressed into his thigh as she leaned into him and he adjusted his leg to stop her losing her balance.

Sarah Jane gently wiped the graze once more and threw the swab away, replacing it with another. The stinging sensation had almost gone now and he no longer needed a distraction, but he couldn't stop looking regardless. She took some gauze and taped it to his side, straightening up with her head tilted, admiring her handiwork. His hand was still on her shoulder and he couldn't resist running his thumb back and forth over her collar bone.

"Better?" she asked, startling him out of his reverie. He dragged his eyes away from her neck and caught her looking at him, a mixture of confusion, amusement and something else entirely on her face.

"Mmm," he agreed. "Thank you."

She smiled at him and the effect of it took him quite by surprise; that odd sensation in his stomach he hadn't felt since he'd first met Chrissie suddenly catching him unawares. Sarah Jane couldn't quite seem to pull away from his gaze either but she recovered first, ducking her head and attempting to move away. She hadn't banked on Alan's quick reactions though; his hand tightened on her shoulder and he caught her hips between his knees. She glanced back up at him in shock and hesitated for a long, long moment before pressing her palms against his chest, staring resolutely at her fingers.

"I'm…older than you Alan. A _lot_ older." She murmured.

He slid his hand down her arm and sat forward, winding his free arm round her waist and tugging her sharply in against him. He leaned into the curve of her neck, the place that had so fascinated him before, and inhaled her natural scent.

"I don't care." He whispered back.

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**Well, what do you think? Worth continuing? Worth a second part? More oneshots? If anyone wants to give me an idea for a cliché please do, they are such fun to write!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So many clichés to choose from….. thanks to Wall With a Fez for the prompt to have them dancing. This scene also seems to have drawn some inspiration from the dance scene in Ashes to Ashes, through no fault of its own.**

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_**Dancing**_

Sarah Jane sat on the steps outside the French windows, listening to the strains of the music from the band escaping into the night air.

It had been a nice wedding, she thought, if not entirely to her own tastes. Chrissie had opted for a typically flamboyant decorative theme and the enormous pink wedding cake had been rather a sight to behold. But it had come as a welcome surprise to be invited in any case. She knew this was largely down to Maria who had begged her mother to be allowed to invite Luke and Clyde so she would have someone to talk to at the reception, and Chrissie in her unfettered excitement had told her to go ahead, and to invite that 'Sally Jane' too. To her credit, she'd been nothing but pleasant to Sarah Jane today, and since the Sontaren incident they'd actually got on rather better than they had before, although this could be mainly put down to the fact that they had seen significantly less of each other since Alan and Maria had moved away.

Still, she felt out of place, a feeling she'd never quite managed to shake off on these sorts of occasions. For all her boldness when she was after a story, she found making small talk trying and had to make a concerted effort to not unintentionally give people the brush off. She smiled to herself, remembering how Alan had described her as 'frosty'; officially she'd been offended, but he had clearly had a point.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned to see the very object of her thoughts leaning on one of the pillars holding up the porch roof, hands in his pockets, head tilted to the side as he regarded her thoughtfully.

"Everything alright?" he asked softly.

"Mmm," Sarah Jane assured him with a smile; "I've just never been very good at this sort of thing."

"You and me both," Alan chuckled and sat down next to her; "At least this time I can let Chrissie take the limelight and disappear into the background. I mean, more so than I did at _our _wedding."

Sarah Jane laughed out loud and Alan gave her shoulder a bump with his own. The two of them sat in companionable silence for a few moments; Alan reached down to take a handful of pebbles from the path at their feet and started to flick them across the lawn; Sarah Jane absently watched them bounce across the grass and let her thoughts start to wander again. She came back to Earth with a bump as she realised Alan had reached over her knee and taken hold of her hand. Startled, she glanced at him and he gave her a shy little smile. He nodded his head towards the doors and she registered that the music had changed to a slower melody.

"Dance with me?" he asked, and she couldn't refuse; he looked so much like a puppy, pleading with her to say yes. Silently she acquiesced, letting him pull her to her feet. Holding their clasped hands up by his chest, he placed his other hand on her hip and she reached up to rest her hand on his shoulder. She was wearing heels for once and while they gave her a couple of extra inches of height, she was still small enough to fit under his chin and as they started to sway she found herself staring at the knot in his tie. It was a little crooked and she smiled to herself. She couldn't deny he looked good in a suit but he was certainly a man who was more at home in jumpers.

A gentle breeze picked up and Sarah Jane felt goose bumps prickle up her arms, bare in the sleeveless dress she wore. She shivered and Alan glanced down at her in concern.

"Cold?" he asked her, his voice soft.

"A bit," she admitted reluctantly. A tiny insistent part of her really didn't want this moment to end, a thought which took her quite by surprise.

It seemed Alan didn't either; instead of suggesting they went inside, he simply moved his hand from her hip round to her other hip, winding his arm around her waist and pulling her close into his side. Sarah Jane slid her arm under his, moving her hand from his collar bone to the back of his shoulder. She felt him press her other hand against his heartbeat, running his thumb across the back of her knuckles before letting go to rub his palm up and down her arm. Her face was buried in the crook of his neck and she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. She felt him hesitate before turning his head ever so slightly, pressing his lips against her temple. She shivered again, and this time it certainly wasn't from the cold. Alan smiled against her skin.

"Come here," he murmured. He took his hand away from her arm and wrapped it round her back, gathering her up and pulling her more tightly against him. She slid her arm under his jacket, reaching up to press her fingertips into the ridge of his shoulder blade; after a moment's hesitation she freed her other arm and slid that under his jacket too, flattening both palms against his back.

Alan ducked his head to drop a kiss on her cheekbone, lingering there and humming in contentment. Sarah Jane lifted her head and pulled back to look up at him, gnawing at her lip as her nerves threatened to get the better of her. He smiled at her softly and leaned in, pausing briefly a hair's breadth away from her lips.

A sudden clatter behind them made them jump apart guiltily and in a rush most of the party spilled out onto the lawn as Chrissie and Ivan pushed through in their going away outfits. They watched in amusement as Chrissie clutched at her new husband, clearly the worse for a few glasses of champagne. At the far side of the lawn a taxi pulled up and the two of them climbed in while the rest of the guests waved and cheered raucously. Sarah Jane felt Alan, who'd moved to stand behind her, slide an arm around her waist and pull her back against his chest. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"Let's get out of here, shall we? I think we've some unfinished business."

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**Ah, fluff. So much fun to write, and hopefully fun to read as well. Let me know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, onto predictable scenario number three….**

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_**Trapped**_

Sarah Jane and Alan dashed into the drawing room in the hotel and desperately looked for somewhere to hide. Sarah Jane had heard some rather 'interesting' rumours about the staff and had taken full advantage of the fact that Alan was currently working on a contract with the hotel owner to improve their booking system. He had simply brought her in with him that morning and no-one had questioned it. What they hadn't banked on was being rumbled whilst snooping around the bedlinen stores, or the fact that there was large platoon of alien guards camped out in the basement for just such an occasion.

"These old building often have hiding places, priest holes, that sort of thing" Sarah huffed between gasping breaths. She was fit and not unused to running, given her line of investigation; but there was no denying she wasn't as young as she used to be. She dropped to her knees and ran her sonic lipstick along the skirting board, shuffling quickly backwards until she'd found what she was looking for. Tapping the panels with her fingertips, she located a tiny switch and the panel swung upwards, revealing a space around 6 feet long but no more than two feet high.

"You first, quickly," she hissed at Alan, who - ever the gentleman - paused just long enough to realise that if she went first he'd likely crush her; on that thought he flung himself to the floor and slid on his back into the space, giving Sarah Jane a quick tug on the wrist to pull her in after him.

The panel swung shut behind her and she landed with an audible 'oof' squarely on top of him. It was clear they'd made it by the skin of their teeth as less than a second later the sound of feet pounding shook the floor they lay on. It was impossible to see what was happening; there was only the thinnest crack of light shining at the bottom of the panel, and Sarah Jane hoped to goodness that the aliens were not observant enough to see the tiny imperfection in the panelled wall that would give them away. She sighed in relief as after several minutes the guards gave up and the sounds of their heavy boots faded away back into the hall.

It was only then that she took stock of her position. She was straddling Alan (there really was no more elegant way of putting it), and his hands were on her hips, which she couldn't blame him for since there really was no where else to put them. She'd braced her hands either side of his head and evidently while she'd been busy staring at the crack of light he must have been getting a faceful of her hair. She glanced down at the sheepish expression on his face and the pair of them started to laugh silently at each other; hiding like children, what a pair of fools they must look.

Alan let go of her hip to reach across and start to open the panel, but his expression changed rather quickly as it became clear the panel was stuck fast. Sarah Jane reached over to try and push at the other end and the result was a tangle as they pressed together, Alan's arm wrapping around her waist to steady the both of them as they stretched awkwardly, her reaching above his head, him reaching down past her legs. Alan swore as he pulled his hand back, defeated.

"What now?" he muttered, looking up at the woman hovering over him. "Can you pull any fancy stunts with that laser thingy of yours?"

"It's a sonic lipstick," Sarah Jane informed him with a raised eyebrow; she pointed the said tool at the panel and sighed in resignation.

"And no, it's not working."

Alan sucked on his lip and looked thoughtful.

"I could probably just kick it out, but there just isn't enough space to point my legs the right way," he furrowed his brow as he concentrated, attempting to bend his leg at the right angle to give the panel enough force; but it was futile.

This time it was Sarah Jane that swore. Alan raised his eyebrows and gave her an appraising look. Sarah Jane rolled her eyes at his mock disapproval and grimaced as her arms started to shake with the effort of holding her body up.

Alan saw the effort she was making to keep her weight off him and wordlessly lifted his hands to her upper arms, running them down to her palms and lifting them off the floor, easing her down onto his chest.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and he chuckled, knowing what it cost her to admit any sort of weakness. He absently started to run his hands up and down her back, under the pretence (at least to himself) that he was just trying to work the stress out of her muscles which had started to cramp from being stuck in the same position for too long.

After several minutes of silence, during which he could almost hear the cogs turning in her mind, he settled his hands back on her hips.

"Alright?" he whispered.

"Hmm," was her only response; but after a moment her head shot up, and she glanced at the wall behind his head with a look Alan recognised; it was uncannily like Maria when she got an idea and he smiled at the resemblance.

"Hold still," she said, and Alan nodded, it wasn't like there was anywhere he could go.

Sarah Jane leaned forward over his head and started to feel the surface at the end of the tiny space, running his fingers around the edges. She wriggled forward to gain better leverage and stopped short as Alan clutched at her hips again. She looked down at him and he sent her a strained sort of smile.

"Could you... _not_ move about so much… like that?" he pleaded.

Sarah Jane was momentarily confused and then her eyes widened as she realised what he meant.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "um, sorry."

"Don't apologise," Alan muttered, "it's not exactly unpleasant, but, well, you know."

The two of them contemplated each other for a moment and Sarah sighed in frustration. This time she lay on him without prompting and he started to stroke her hair.

"Since we're stuck here for a while," Alan whispered into the top of her head, "we could…" he trailed off and she looked up at him in question. He let his hands fall to her face and tucked her hair behind her ears. She nervously licked her lips and her eyes fluttered closed as Alan pulled her head down to meet his.

And with that, the panel flew open and the pair of them were caught like rabbits in the headlights as Luke and Maria stared in at them; Maria with a mixture of horror and amusement on her face, Luke looking rather pleased with himself, oblivious to what he'd almost interrupted.

"See, I told you we'd find them," he said cheerfully.

Maria could only nod.

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**Blimey, even the interruptions are starting to be clichéd… I might actually get them to kiss at some point!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A bit more dialogue in this one. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's 'deep', but it's certainly got a tiny bit more substance than the previous chapters. Inspired by a slight teenage crush that I'm fairly sure exists in the SJA universe.**

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_**Concerning the age gap**_

Sarah Jane smiled at the three teenagers who she'd come to be so fond of; Luke, of course, she loved dearly, no matter how short a time she'd been his mother. Maria she viewed as the daughter she'd never had, and Clyde – well, Clyde was just _Clyde, _wasn't he? Cocky and wisecracking, he somehow managed to endear himself to most people he met, and she was no exception. She shook her head as he gave her a cheeky grin before following Maria and Luke upstairs, the three of them chattering loudly about the latest escapade.

Sarah Jane turned back to the sink, washing up the last of the cups and stacking them on the draining board.

"You've got an admirer, there," remarked Alan from where he leaned, arms folded, against the washing machine.

"I'm sorry?" Sarah Jane questioned him, turning to see his amused expression.

Alan nodded towards the stairs.

"He thinks an awful lot of you."

"Who? Clyde?" Sarah Jane asked, confused; "perhaps he looks up to me, he does spend a lot of time here I suppose;" she conceded.

Alan chuckled.

"He's _fond_ of you Sarah Jane. At his age, well, that can develop into all sorts of confusing feelings." His eyes took on a faraway look and he smiled to himself as he reminisced; "I had the most terrible thing for my History teacher when I was fourteen. Of course now it seems daft but at the time, well, it was a bit overwhelming."

"Alan!" Sarah Jane admonished, "Don't put silly thoughts like that into my head, I'm old enough to be his mother." She reflected for a moment, and continued in slightly horrified tones, "I'm old enough to be his _grandmother_; I'm old enough to be _your_ mother."

"Age is just a number," Alan said, his voice offhand, shrugging a shoulder and letting his eyes drift around the kitchen, avoiding her gaze.

Sarah Jane raised an eyebrow and spoke firmly. "In some cases it's quite a si_gnificant_ number though, Alan."

Alan turned back to meet her eyes and fixed her with a shrewd look.

"What about the Doctor, then? I get the impression he was a fair bit older than you."

Sarah Jane's breath caught as she felt the inevitable microsecond of gooseflesh she experienced whenever someone mentioned the Doctor's name. But as it passed she laughed out loud. She had to acknowledge he had a point.

"Well, yes, I think 'a fair bit' might be understating it slightly." She admitted with a smile. "But that was… different. He was an _alien_, for a start, and we never…well, you know." She turned away and Alan heard the tiniest edge of wistfulness in her voice.

"Hey," he said softly, catching at her arm. "If the Doctor never made his move, well; I can only say more fool him."

Sarah Jane threw him a rueful smile and dropped her eyes, examining her feet.

"It's nice of you to say so."

"I mean it."

Sarah Jane looked up at Alan, who met her gaze, deadly serious. His hand was cupping her elbow and he ran his thumb over the inside of her arm, as he eased himself off the washing machine to stand, pulling her closer. Hs eyes raked her face and she bit her lip as his expression softened. Hesitantly, he leaned in and pressed the gentlest of kisses to the corner of her mouth. After a moment he pulled away to whisper in her ear.

"Clyde's got some competition."

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**Ho hum. More to come. Hey, that rhymed…. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A slightly longer one this time – it'll be a twoshot. Thank you for the prompts I've received, I'm working on a couple and I will get round to them all eventually.**

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_**Thawing out – in more ways than one**_

"Sarah Jane, we're going to have to stop," Alan insisted as the snow fell thick and fast against the windscreen.

Sarah Jane had to concede he was right on this occasion. She sighed to herself; it was cold and miserable and she would really have preferred to get home tonight. But it was getting late, they were still more than fifty miles north of London, nowhere near the motorway yet and despite the wipers being on their fastest setting the snow was building up so quickly her view was becoming dangerously obscured. She thanked her lucky stars that the children were all away on the school skiing trip; at least she didn't _have_ to get home. And in the absence of the teenagers Alan had tagged along for this expedition; it had come to nothing, but she was glad of his company now.

"Sarah Jane-" Alan began again at her apparent indifference to his protests.

"Yes, yes, you're right," she answered, "I can't just pull over, though, we'll get snowed in in the car. Let's find somewhere to stay. Keep your eyes peeled."

Alan nodded in relief and craned his neck to try and see more than few feet up the road ahead of them. After several minutes more of a journey that was becoming decidedly hair-raising he gave a shout.

"There, look – I think it's a pub sign, could be a bed and breakfast!"

Sarah Jane slowed down and glanced to her left; sure enough just ahead there was a post with a pub sign mounted on it. The sign itself was high up and impossible to make out in the driving snow, but the board underneath announced clearly that there were vacancies. She pulled over into the car park and the two of them wrapped their coats more tightly around themselves before leaping out and making a dash for the door. Neither of them were dressed properly for snow; the blizzard having come about completely unexpectedly in the typical manner of British weather.

Inside the entrance hall they brushed themselves off and stamped the worst of the slush off their shoes before approaching the tiny reception desk. Alan pressed the bell for service and after a few moments a grey-haired woman appeared from the door behind.

"Hello, there," she greeted them, "After a room?"

"Yes please," Sarah Jane answered, "well - two if you have them."

"I've only the one left now I'm afraid," the woman replied with an apologetic look, "normally you'd have been alright but a fair few people have pulled over because of the weather."

Sarah Jane glanced at Alan and he shrugged casually.

"Fine by me."

She turned back to the receptionist and nodded.

"We'll take it then."

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The room itself was fine, Sarah Jane thought, if a little old fashioned. She'd stayed in far worse accommodation over the years. There were, at least, two single beds rather than a double which would avoid any awkwardness. The en-suite bathroom, was exactly that, boasting only a bath and no shower. The woman - who'd introduced herself as Shirley and was in fact the landlady - had left with a promise to return with some toiletries for them.

Alan rubbed his hands together and leaned over to press his palm to the radiator.

"This is freezing," he said, bending down to start twiddling with the dial at the side, muttering to himself.

After a moment there was a knock at the door and Sarah Jane pulled it open to see Shirley standing there, almost hidden behind a pile of blankets, topped with a wicker basket of soaps and shampoo. She handed the pile to Sarah Jane and stepped into the room to address them both.

"There's no point in trying that," she said to Alan, "the boiler's just packed up. I think the weather might have frozen some of the pipes." She turned back to Sarah Jane. "I do apologise; I've brought you some extra blankets, I hope you won't be too cold."

Sarah Jane smiled grimly.

"I'm sure we'll be fine." She said, depositing the blankets on the end of the nearest bed. Shirley left and Sarah Jane and Alan contemplated each other. She sighed.

"I really ought to have brought an overnight bag just in case - you think I'd have learned by now," she said with a rueful chuckle, sinking down onto the bed.

Alan huffed out a laugh, trying to ignore the fact that he could see his breath. He shrugged out of his jumper and handed it to her.

"Here, you can sleep in that," he said with a smile, and Sarah Jane wasn't altogether sure why her cheeks reddened at the gesture.

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Sarah Jane was freezing. There was no other way of putting it. Despite the duvet and all the extra blankets she just couldn't get warm; she simply didn't have the body heat to warm the bed up in the first place, let alone keep it that way. She drew her knees up to her chest and curled her toes in on themselves. Closing her eyes for the umpteenth time, she concentrated on slowing her breathing, trying to relax her body and stop the uncontrollable shivering that had overtaken her. She wondered if Alan was asleep. She thought not, from the movements she could hear from the other bed, although perhaps he was just a light sleeper.

After a few more moments however, she heard Alan's feet hit the floor; probably going to the toilet, she thought, although she didn't know how he could bear to get up at all in just his t-shirt and underwear. For a brief moment she recalled how he had looked when he'd stepped out of the bathroom, face washed and hair damp. She flushed again at the thought, before chastising herself. There was no denying he was a handsome man, but he was so _young_, for heaven's sake. Still, the whole situation was just a bit overwhelming. Sarah Jane simply wasn't used to being in such close proximity to a half dressed man, and the fact that his scent surrounded her in the jumper she wore wasn't helping.

She shivered violently again and then she heard the floor creak as Alan got up. A moment later she felt the weight of an extra duvet land on top of her. Her eyes widened as she felt Alan slide into the bed behind her, pulling all of the bedcovers around them both. She looked back over her shoulder at him and opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head and shushed her.

"There's no point in both of us freezing, is there?" he asked her reasonably. "Stop thinking for once and let me help."

He had a point, and she nodded, laying her head back down and let him wind an arm around her waist. He pulled her in and tucked his legs up behind hers. Sarah Jane chuckled to herself at his hiss of protest when she pressed her icy feet against his shins, and then let out a muffled shriek as he paid her back by sliding his cold hand under the jumper to rest it against her ribs. The two of them began to giggle and Alan snuggled closer, pushing his free arm up under the pillow that they now shared.

"Better?" he mumbled against the back of her neck, already feeling sleep threatening to overtake him now that he'd started to thaw out.

"Hmmm," was the only answer he got; but he smiled to himself as he felt Sarah Jane's hand cover his own where it rested on her middle.

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Later – _much_ later – Sarah Jane awoke to the loud metallic pinging of the radiator coming back to life. Alan stirred behind her and lifted his head to listen, his hand sliding to her hip to steady himself. She felt his uncertainty as the reason they shared a bed suddenly became defunct; after a moment's hesitation she relieved him of any awkward decision making and took hold of his hand, putting it back on her stomach, linking her fingers with his. She could always blame being half-asleep for her actions, after all.

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**Thanks for reading - part two of this particular story should be up tomorrow. Please do let me know what you think, it makes my day when a review pops up! And prompts are always welcome too. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Part two, picking up immediately after the last chapter. Short and sweet this time. **

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_**The morning after…**_

Alan slowly woke, deliciously warm and comfortable. The sun shone through the window, the curtains standing wide open – it had been so dark the night before they hadn't bothered closing them – and the light had that odd quality to it that Alan recognised as meaning there was snow on the ground outside. He was lying on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other wrapped around Sarah Jane, whose head was buried in the crook of his shoulder.

He glanced down at her and smiled to himself. She was soft and warm and his jumper swamped her tiny frame, hanging off one shoulder and baring the pale skin there. He lifted his arm off the pillow above his head, stretching it to ease the stiffness that had set in from its awkward position, and reached down, tracing the neckline with a finger, drawing her hair back to expose her neck. Sarah Jane stirred, frowning in her sleep, and Alan stilled his hand for a moment. She settled down again, snuggling into his side, her arm lying across his stomach. Alan tightened the arm around her waist and pulled her closer. There were certainly worse things, he decided, than waking up to an armful of Sarah Jane Smith.

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Sarah Jane blinked awake and fought against the momentary confusion caused by her strange surroundings; the unfamiliar walls and ceiling, and in addition to that the fact that she was wedged between the wall and something warm and solid. In a flash it came back to her – the bed and breakfast, the snow, and Alan. She froze, taking in the reality of the situation; half dressed, in bed with a man who was young enough to be her son… her cheeks flushed again when it occurred to her that they'd checked in under 'Smith' – what must _that_ have looked like?

On the other hand, though… she was comfortable and felt safe, secure. Alan was a good man, he certainly hadn't taken advantage of their situation and she felt reasonably sure that he wouldn't ever mention it again if she asked him not to. His arm around her waist was strong; the steady rise and fall of his chest under her palm was calming. Perhaps, for once in her life, she should just relax and enjoy the moment while it lasted.

"Stop thinking," Alan's voice rumbled from above her.

"Sorry, it's a habit," she murmured back.

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze.

"Yes, I've noticed that."

The pair of them lay still for a few more minutes, both of them reluctant to move. Sarah Jane pressed her ear against his chest and listened to the thump of his heart. Alan lifted his arm from around her waist and began to trace patterns on her bare shoulder with his fingers, and she felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Alan," she began awkwardly.

"Hush, you," he said firmly, "it's not every day I wake up with a beautiful woman in my arms; let me enjoy it for a little while at least."

"Oh," Sarah Jane said, taken aback, "really?"

Alan laughed.

"Really, I don't make a habit of this, and yes, you're gorgeous," he clarified, bringing his fingers up from her shoulder to tilt her chin up so he could look at her properly.

Sarah Jane regarded him for a moment before leaning in quickly and placing a kiss on his cheek. She drew back and twitched a tentative smile at him and he grinned lazily back.

"Come here," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling in her in to a huge bear hug. Sarah Jane giggled as she collided with his chest.

"We don't have to get up yet, do we?" she whispered.

"Definitely not."

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**As requested by PC Addict, the next instalment will guest star the Doctor…watch this space…**


	7. Chapter 7

**And here we go again…**

**Thanks to sjsmatee101 for the jealousy prompt, although I know you did suggest it the other way round – that version is to come… and thanks to PCAddict for the prompt to include the Doctor. I hope this hits the right note.**

**This takes place after the events of 'Journey's End'.**

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_**What's in a name?**_

Sarah Jane gave Alan a resigned look as he sidled into the attic. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and she couldn't blame him; after all, the world had very nearly ended; Maria had been in touch with Luke and filled Alan in to a certain extent - Sarah Jane had several text messages to that effect; but he deserved a proper explanation from her too.

"Sarah Jane, I-" Alan began tentatively; pausing as he was suddenly interrupted by the unmistakable grinding of the TARDIS materialising in the corner of the attic. His eyes widened and Sarah Jane turned away from him, her own eyes lighting up.

The TARDIS door swung open and the now familiar spiky hair emerged, topping off a man who was tall and rather thin, wearing a pinstripe suit.

"Sarah!" he exclaimed in delight and Sarah Jane beamed at him.

"Alan, this is-"

"The Doctor," Alan finished for her, reaching out in greeting; the Doctor took his proffered hand and scrutinised him closely.

"Alan Jackson?" he asked suddenly, and Alan nodded in surprise.

"How did you…?"

"Never mind," the Doctor said, looking slightly guilty. "Spoilers, as a friend of mine has been known to say."

"I'll leave you to it," Alan muttered to Sarah Jane, adding as he passed her, "I thought you didn't like being called Sarah?"

"She does by me," The Doctor said, the slightest hint of a challenge in his tone.

Alan gave him an appraising look and nodded to Sarah Jane, leaving them alone in the attic. She listened to his footsteps fading and the sound of the door slamming downstairs before turning back to the Doctor.

"Come here," he said, holding out his arms with a broad smile and she went into them gladly.

"How are you?" he asked her, pushing her away so he could look at her properly.

"Oh, you know;" she answered with a grin, "the world nearly ended, had to help drive the TARDIS home whilst giving the planet a tow. Nothing out of the ordinary. Surprised to see you again so soon though."

The Doctor grinned back and put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he looked around.

"It's been a while for me, actually. Just wanted to come back and check you were alright, Sarah. We said goodbye so quickly."

"I'm sorry, I had to get home to Luke. And I'm sorry about Alan," Sarah added, "he's just found out about – well, everything, not that long ago. And now this. I think he wanted to discuss what just happened. He's normally a bit friendlier than that."

The Doctor looked at her closely.

"Are you sure that's what he'd come to talk about?"

Sarah Jane was confused.

"Well, what else would it be?" she gave the Doctor a sudden sharp look. "How did you know who he was, anyway?"

"Spoilers." The Doctor said firmly.

The two of them contemplated each other for a moment and Sarah shook her head, knowing he wasn't going to enlighten her further on that point.

"Are you staying?" she asked.

"No, I can't." he answered with a sad little smile. "I just came to give you a message."

"A message?" she parroted, "from whom?"

"I can't tell you that," the Doctor said, "all I can say is this. 'Look at what's under your nose.'"

Sarah Jane stared at him, baffled, and he tugged her into a quick hug, whispering in her ear with a voice full of affection.

"Stop waiting for me."

And with that he turned and walked back into the TARDIS before she could say another word. As it dematerialised, Sarah Jane sank down onto the sofa, pondering his words.

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It was late, and getting dark, but Alan was furiously weeding the front garden. Garden fork in hand, he drove it into the earth and twisted, relishing in the effort. He had seen Sarah Jane's face when the Doctor had appeared; how her expression had changed, her sheer joy at seeing him. How could he possibly hope to compete with that? He was only glad the Doctor had interrupted them before he'd made a complete fool of himself.

"Hi," said a voice from the gate and he looked up in surprise to find the very object of this thoughts standing there. She had her arms wrapped around her to ward off the rapidly cooling air, and she twitched him an awkward smile.

"Hi, Sarah Jane," he said, digging the fork into the ground and leaning on it, wiping the sweat from his brow with his other arm.

"It's Sarah, actually," she answered casually, letting herself into the garden and leaning back on the gate, drumming her fingers against the wood; avoiding his eyes.

"What?" Alan asked, momentarily confused.

"Sarah. It's what people…who are close to me call me. At least, they used to. For years now I haven't liked it, it reminds me too much of what I've lost." At this she looked up at him and he was astonished to see tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"The Doctor…?" Alan questioned, his gaze drifting upwards, falling on Sarah's attic window.

"He's gone." She said, "But he left me a message."

"Oh?" Alan asked.

"He said I should – look at what's under my nose."

"Oh?" he asked again, his voice carefully even.

Sarah took a step forward, suddenly nervous. She reached out a shaking hand and touched Alan gently on the arm.

"I've been so _blind._"

Any remaining jealously Alan was harbouring was swept away as she stepped into his embrace, pressing her tiny hands against his chest while he let go of the fork to wind both his arms around her.

"Sarah," he whispered in her ear, his voice threatening to crack.

She smiled against him.

"That sounds nice."

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**And there you have it. More to come. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello again, here with another addition to this series.**

**This one takes place after the events of 'Whatever Happened to Sarah Jane?"**

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_**Stargazing**_

Alan wandered round to Sarah Jane's garden, having had no answer at the door. He knew she was in, since he'd seen her arrive home from dropping off Clyde not twenty minutes before, and her car was still parked on the drive. Sure enough, as he rounded the corner he saw her reclined on her garden bench (the same one, he observed wryly, that he'd woken up on a few weeks earlier. With his new-found knowledge of Sarah Jane's antics he had started to wonder about that particular incident.). She was lying with her legs hooked over one arm, and her head on the other. He watched her for a moment; she looked so peaceful he was almost loathe to disturb her.

"Hi," he said, and she shot upright, as though embarrassed to be caught idling. The cushion that had been under her head fell to the ground.

"Alan!" she exclaimed. "What can I do for you?"

He shrugged.

"I'm not sure to be honest, all this… I just felt like I wanted to come over, and…" he trailed off and she smiled at him softly.

"It's a lot to take in, Alan. I can't blame you."

He paused for a moment, contemplating her, and then nodded upwards.

"Stargazing? Or looking for something else?" he asked with a half smile.

Sarah Jane chuckled.

"Just stargazing," she assured him, "it's a habit."

Alan gnawed on his lip and folded his arms, fighting an inner debate. After a pause he moved over and sat down next to her, leaning back to look up at the night sky.

"So," he stated, never looking at the woman sitting next to him, "you travelled through space."

"And time," Sarah Jane added helpfully.

"And time," Alan said, keeping his voice deliberately calmer than he felt.

"Yes," she whispered, the slightest hint of regret in her voice.

Silence fell between them and the two of them gazed upwards, taking in the view. Alan mentally catalogued the constellations he knew. Orion, Cassiopeia, the Plough… his knowledge failed him rather embarrasingly quickly and his mind wandered back to the events of the day.

"What was she like?" Sarah Jane asked curiously, and he turned to see her watching him, her face earnest, eyes bright in the moonlight.

"Andrea?" Alan asked in surprise; at Sarah Jane's encouraging nod, he thought for a moment.

"She was… a bit full on, actually. Nice, you know, but a bit much."

Sarah Jane huffed out a laugh.

"That's exactly what Maria said. Sounds about right." Her face fell and she glanced down at the ground. Alan reached over and picked up her hand, turning it over and tracing the lines of her palm with his finger.

"I missed you, you know. I couldn't remember you at all, but there was something nagging at me the whole time. I missed you."

Sarah Jane watched his hand stroking hers and bit the inside of her cheek. Alan carefully placed her hand back in her lap, patting it as he put it down, and then twisted where he sat, leaning back against the arm of the bench. He winced at the wood digging into his back, and reached down to pick up the discarded cushion, sitting up slightly to wedge it behind him. He swung his leg behind Sarah Jane and hooked it over the other arm of the bench as she had done earlier.

Sarah Jane watched him silently as he made himself comfortable, and to his mild surprise didn't object at all when he reached over and took hold of her shoulders, gently pulling her back to lie against his chest. She relaxed against him and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head

"Tell me what we're looking at." He whispered.

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**Thanks for reading, please do leave a review if you're so inclined.**


	9. Chapter 9

**This is possibly the fluffiest one yet, but hey – it's Sunday morning.**

**Just a reminder as I often forget to put it – I in no way own anything to do with Doctor Who or the Sarah Jane Adventures.**

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_**Movie night….**_

"We had a deal, Sarah Jane, come on." Alan said firmly.

"Yes, but you just gave me a lift, this is going to take _hours_" she complained, turning her eyes on him with a puppyish expression he'd never seen before and very nearly caved into on the spot. He steeled himself and fixed her with a stern look.

"No, you promised. We are going to watch this."

Sarah Jane leaned back on the sofa, folded her arms and sulked, watching as he put the DVD into the player and moved back to sit beside her, fiddling with the remote control. She sighed in resignation as the theme music to _Star Wars_ filled the living room and Alan glanced at her with an expression of childlike glee on his face.

"I just can't believe you've never seen this, it's brilliant." He grinned. His enthusiasm was infectious and she smiled back in spite of herself. Where was the harm, she supposed; she could always let her mind wander.

Forty five minutes later, after the umpteenth time of being shushed by Alan for pointing out technology that could _never _work, spacecraft that looked oddly familiar, aliens that were downright laughable in appearance, she had finally quietened down, and surprisingly found herself drawn in to the story itself. She glanced at Alan who was sitting comfortably, completely relaxed and engrossed in the film. He stretched, lifting one arm to lay it along the back of the sofa, and she settled back, drawing her feet up under her and leaning her head back.

She felt herself starting to nod; it was so warm and comfortable in the living room. Her eyes closed.

A moment later she woke with a start, briefly confused, but after a quick look at the screen to see the characters in the same scene, she realised that she'd only fallen asleep for a few seconds. What had wakened her she wondered? And then she felt the whisper of a touch on the side of her neck as Alan's hand drifted down from the back of the sofa to graze along her skin. She shivered involuntarily at his touch and he paused for a moment, flexing his fingers away from her. He never looked her way, nor she his, but she felt his attention on her, the film forgotten.

Several long seconds passed and then he seemed to find a new resolve. His fingertips pressed into her shoulder and he gave her tiny, but firm pull towards him. At the same time, he shifted where he sat, leaning back, lifting his feet to place his crossed ankles on the edge of the coffee table, and after a pause Sarah Jane did the same, their thighs pressed together. He flattened his hand against her shoulder and slid it down her arm, giving her a squeeze.

Sarah Jane fought with herself for a few moments, her mind in overdrive, before she finally thought, what the hell? She laid her head on his shoulder and she felt him sigh, tightening his arm around her and leaning his cheek on the top of her hair.

Comfortable and content, they watched the end of the film and sat in silence while the credits rolled.

"So," Alan asked after a pause, "it's early yet. Shall we watch the next one?"

Sarah Jane reflexively rolled her eyes but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"Alright then."

Alan got up to change the DVDs over and Sarah Jane felt the loss of contact acutely. She watched him as he bent over, her cheeks reddening as he turned back to her and caught her quite obviously checking him out. With a good natured smirk, he raised an eyebrow pointedly at her and she turned scarlet.

Sitting back down, he flicked the remote, switching the film on, and turned to look at her, wordlessly holding open his arm. Sarah Jane gave him a withering look and then moved into his space regardless. He grinned to himself and sat back into the corner of the sofa, pulling her with him.

Sarah Jane snuggled into him. He was warm and solid. She could definitely get used to this.

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**Thanks for reading. Back soon!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Another guest star spot in this one – I couldn't resist.**

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_**Undercover…**_

Sarah Jane kept to the shadows as she followed the figure down the side street. He had caught her attention immediately and sure enough, her watch had confirmed he had some sort of alien technology about his person. The results were not so clear on what he was himself, but the readout had been doubtful enough for her to get up and head off after him.

"Sarah Jane!" hissed Alan as he caught up with her and she gestured for him to keep quiet. The woman was a bloody law until herself, he mused grumpily. It was supposed to have been a nice adult evening, a meal between friends without a gaggle of teenagers hanging around, and they'd not even started the main course before something had caught her eye and she'd dashed off.

The two of them crouched down behind some old crates and watched as the man stopped briefly, looking left and right before heading off down the main street. Sarah Jane waited for a couple of seconds and then headed out after him. He was walking more slowly now, and the two of them had to reduce their pace so as not to catch up. He glanced back over his shoulder and Sarah Jane looked away quickly, catching Alan's eye and smiling as though he'd made a joke.

_Alright, _he thought, _two can play at that game. _

He reached over and took her hand, throwing her a cheeky grin and a twitch of his eyebrow. She started in surprise and he looked away casually, ignoring her completely except for the hand he held, which he began to run his thumb over.

Sarah Jane pulled herself together and focused back on the task at hand, desperately trying to ignore the tingles shooting up her arm at Alan's touch. The man, or whatever he was, had turned into an alley and the pair of them watched from the corner as another dark figure stepped out of the shadows to meet him. The pair conversed briefly, something changed hands, and then she realised with sudden clarity that he was about to turn round and come back past them. She looked quickly around for somewhere to hide, but the alley was narrow and there was nothing large enough to conceal two people. Alan had evidently realised the same thing, and he took charge of the situation, letting go of her hand and shoving her roughly against the alley wall.

Sarah Jane's breath left her in a rush as her back collided with the brickwork, and she clutched a handful of his shirt to steady herself. He was pressed against her, one hand on the wall to conceal her face from view, the other landing on her hip, seemingly of its own accord.

She eyed the figure approaching them, his face betraying more than a little suspicion. Almost beginning to panic, she looked up at Alan and was startled to see his eyes fixed on her, darker than she remembered them ever being.

"Sorry," he whispered and then leant in to capture her lips in a bruising kiss. She squeaked in surprise and he silenced her with a sweep of his tongue, tilting his head and deepening the contact. His hand moved from the wall to her neck, cradling her face. She covered it with her fingers and for one of the very few times in her life forgot completely about her surroundings as her senses reeled. She let go of his shirt and slid her hand round to the small of his back, pulling him closer and he groaned into her mouth before tightening his fingers around her hip, tugging her sharply against him. Her eyes fluttered shut and for several long moments there was nothing in her mind but him, his scent, his strength. He let go of her mouth to start placing tiny feather light kisses under her ear.

A moment later they sprang apart as the man, still standing behind them, pointedly cleared his throat. Alan turned to face him, partly afraid of whom or what this man was, partly incensed at the interruption. Sarah Jane looked past him and he moved closer, pressing her into the wall in an instinctive show of protectiveness.

The man grinned and held out a hand.

"Sarah Jane Smith?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"How did you…?" Sarah Jane trailed off, looking him up and down, trying to remember if she was supposed to know who he was.

"I make it my business to know. These are Torchwood dealings, and I can assure you it's nothing for you to be concerned about."

She narrowed her eyes at the mention of Torchwood and he let his still outstretched hand fall.

"I'll be going," he said gathering his greatcoat around him. He glanced at Sarah Jane again and gave her a suggestive grin, showing a set of very white teeth.

"Looking good, ma'am." His gaze fell on Alan, who possessively moved even closer to Sarah Jane who flushed at both the comment and the contact.

"Not bad either, sir." he said with a wink.

With that he turned and left them, their mouths agape.

It was several seconds more before they realised neither of them had even attempted to move away.

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**Yes, I thought I'd throw in a kiss, finally… hope it was worth the wait!**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, another addition to this series. Title speaks for itself I think!**

**With thanks to Sjsmatee101 for the prompt.**

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_**Jealousy**_

Sarah Jane watched with interest as Alan arrived home. She was sitting upstairs in the spare bedroom where there was a handy armchair by the window, watching the world go by; it was a habit she sometimes indulged when she didn't feel the urge to look skywards. After decades of journalism a bit of people watching was something she enjoyed from time to time; and the older she got, the more she felt it kept her, quite literally, grounded.

She wondered idly where he'd been. She knew his normal routine – out of the door at eight thirty, just after Maria left for school; back from work just after half past five, sometimes closer to six if he'd popped into the supermarket on the way home. She felt no embarrassment or awkwardness at this familiarity with his comings and goings. Quite aside from her naturally curious nature, she felt it was her duty to keep an eye on those people she cared about. It was after eleven on a Friday night and it wasn't like him to be home so late. Maria hadn't mentioned it earlier – not that it was any of her business, but Sarah Jane didn't like the idea that she'd unknowingly sent the young girl home to an empty house an hour before. She pondered at how quickly the maternal instincts had kicked in since taking on all these youngsters. With Luke it was understandable; he was, to all intents and purposes, _hers_. But Maria had managed quite well without her for the first thirteen years of her life, and she had a mother, after all. And then there was Clyde too, she felt so _responsible_ for them all. It was as discomfiting as it was pleasant.

Something else unfamiliar was prickling at her now, as she watched Alan unlock his door and step inside. She struggled to pin it down and eventually gave up and went to bed, lying awake for some time although she could not have said why.

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Luke and Maria headed off down the road on their way to the cinema and after waving them goodbye Sarah Jane wandered across the road to where Alan was just locking up.

"Off out?" she asked casually, inwardly rolling her eyes at the obvious question.

"Mmm," Alan answered, checking the door and turning to her with a smile as he pocketed his keys.

"Anywhere interesting? I noticed you were home late last night."

Alan gave her a searching glance.

"Keeping tabs on me now?" he asked with quirk of his lip, and Sarah Jane felt her face begin to colour unexpectedly.

"Keeping an eye on the street in general," she said, her tone defensive.

Alan chuckled.

"Actually, I was out on a date." He said, somewhat sheepish.

"Oh?" Sarah Jane questioned, her curiosity, and something else she couldn't quite identify, well and truly piqued.

"Mmm," he said again, "a friend of a woman at work. She's taken to setting me up. Apparently I can't possibly manage alone."

"How did it go?" Sarah prodded him, for some reason not quite sure what she wanted the answer to be.

Alan narrowed his eyes slightly and watched her for a moment before answering.

"Alright, actually. Why so interested?"

Sarah Jane huffed out a short laugh as she folded her arms and rocked back on her heels.

"I _am_ a journalist, Alan, being interested comes with the territory." She regarded him briefly; "anyway, I was wondering if you and Maria would like to come over tonight. I'm cooking. Well," she quantified at his suspicious look, "I'm ordering pizza."

"Maybe," Alan agreed, "I think Georgina said she might have tickets to something tonight though."

"Oh," Sarah Jane nodded hastily, "well, perhaps just Maria then."

She turned to go, her mind racing, attempting to fathom why she was so bothered.

"Sarah Jane," Alan said quickly, reaching out to take hold of her elbow. As she turned back towards him he gave her a strange look.

"Is everything ok?"

"Of course," she assured him, "it's not a problem if you have plans, naturally." She attempted to move away again but Alan kept a firm grip on her arm and stared at her for a several seconds before flooring her with his next question.

"Sarah Jane... are you _jealous_?"

Sarah Jane gaped at him as he unwittingly caused the scales to fall from her eyes and put a word to the niggling prickle she'd been feeling since the previous night. For once speechless, she struggled to come up with a reply. After several moments, she managed to force out something along the lines of 'don't be so ridiculous' but it patently hadn't worked as Alan let go of her arm to fold his own and fixed her with the raised eyebrow that she knew he used on Maria when he wanted the truth.

She felt her cheeks redden again and she cursed her own weakness.

"Just tell Maria, will you?" she snapped, turning on her heel to head back to her house.

"I'll be there too," Alan called after her, waiting for her stop at her gate and turn back to face him again before continuing.

"It's a far better offer than whatever Georgina might have had planned. As long as I get a cuddle on the sofa after the kids have gone to bed." He fixed her with a meaningful stare and watched her pink cheeks turn scarlet before turning away to walk down the road, chuckling to himself. Maria had been right; 'another woman' had been all it took.

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**Hmmm. Perhaps this chapter warrants a 'part 2'...let me know. Please do review. Ta!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Part 2 of the previous chapter. It's rather short, and I'm not sure that it warrants taking any further – I have several other scenarios I've still to cover – but I'll leave it to you guys to decide.**

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_**Jealously – part 2**_

Never, ever, had Sarah Jane Smith felt so ill at ease in her own home. There had been some uncomfortable moments over the years, of course – after all, one didn't deal with alien visitors on a regular basis without some odd house calls; and naturally UNIT were never terribly friendly on the rare occasions they turned up.

Tonight was something else though. After their earlier conversation, when Alan had turned up with Maria on the doorstep she'd not known where to look.

Over dinner he'd deliberately caught her eye on several occasions, keeping hold of her gaze until she looked away, the quirk of his smile and the twitch of his eyebrows giving away his amusement at her discomfort. She was furious with herself for the effect his presence was suddenly having on her; the flushing, the shortness of breath that made her every comment catch in her throat. She wondered if he'd noticed; she certainly would have if the tables were turned, she thought - but then he was not a journalist.

Afterwards they'd started a game of Monopoly and Sarah Jane and Alan had sat on opposite ends of the sofa with her son between them. Alan had kept his hand casually on the back of the sofa, never touching her, but always within a few millimetres of doing so whenever she'd forgotten herself and leaned back into the cushions. She was hyper-aware of his presence and was desperately torn between wanting to be alone with him and wishing that he'd leave.

The game was short lived since Luke had taken approximately thirty seconds to get a grasp on the concept, and then after declaring it to be simple economics, had wiped the floor with all of them quite spectacularly, and as a result it was still early when Maria yawned and said she'd like to head to bed. Luke saw her to the door and disappeared upstairs, and Sarah Jane was finally left alone with Alan. He leaned over to close the living room door firmly and paused while Luke's footsteps faded and his bedroom door shut. Sarah Jane crouched by the table and busied herself clearing up the game pieces, attempting to overcome the fact that she suddenly felt like a hormonal teenager all over again. She knew he was watching her, and when she finally glanced up at him warily his expression softened.

"How about that cuddle?" he asked with a tilt of his head and a hopeful look on his face; now that they really were on their own his bravado seemed to have deserted him and it dawned on her that he looked just as nervous as she felt. At this realisation Sarah Jane felt some of her own courage come inching back and she gave him a sheepish half smile.

"You sit down, and I'll get some wine." She told him as she straightened up, her voice firm, betraying none of her fear. Alan gave her a shy smile in return and moved past her to settle back on the sofa, pausing briefly as she reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

"I'll keep the seat warm," he called at her retreating back.

"Cheeky sod."

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**Yes, I know it ends rather abruptly but these are only oneshots after all and inspiration failed me at this point! Hope you enjoyed regardless!**


	13. Chapter 13

**This is a sequel to chapter 7 'What's in a Name?'. For the purposes of this fic, the events of 'The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith' never happened.**

**Apologies in advance for the extreme level of fluff contained within!**

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_**Full Circle**_

Sarah Jane looked around the crowded hall and smiled to herself. She had never liked being the centre of attention but today had been _wonderful_. Still, a not-so-small part of her was glad that the 'main event', so to speak, was over and she could relax and enjoy the evening, fading into the background as much as was possible.

Everyone she knew was there, all wanting a piece of her, to clutch her hand and express their good wishes. She smiled and thanked people until her cheeks ached and she'd repeated herself so often her voice no longer sounded like her own. She found herself gravitating towards the smaller entrance hall where it was quieter and was not surprised to see the Brigadier, leaning on his cane in the corner, avoiding the crowd. He gave her a warm smile full of real affection and lifted a hand to tug at the fabric of her dress.

"I honestly never thought I'd see the day," he gently ribbed her with an ill-disguised look of fatherly pride. Sarah Jane blushed and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Neither did I," she confessed; "I spent so many years waiting for – well, you know. It seems daft now. I'm sure he hardly thought of me until we ran into each other again at Deffry Vale."

The Brigadier cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked her with a pointed look across the hall behind her. Sarah Jane turned to follow his line of sight.

And there he was.

For a long moment she simply gaped at him; then her feet of their own volition took her to where he stood awkwardly near the door, ready to make a quick exit at any moment. Old habits do indeed die hard.

He had, in deference to the occasion, changed into a pinstriped suit and tie – Sarah Jane briefly eyed the ensemble that was so familiar to her now and wondered if the TARDIS wardrobe held an array of suits of that type in all sizes and shapes, given the substantial difference in frame between this body and his current one. He'd left off the hat too; but there was the scarf, bold and bright and utterly out of place, but so dear to her she felt her eyes start to fill even as she beamed up at him. She reached out a hand to rub the wool between thumb and finger and closed her eyes, for an instant transported back more than half a lifetime.

"You look beautiful, my Sarah," the rich velvety voice murmured above her and she really did start to cry then; a half choked sob escaping as he said the words she had always secretly longed to hear from him. His hand rested on her arm, his cool skin offering her some comfort while she pulled herself together. She felt his hesitation and then he tugged her quickly in, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her against his chest. She indulged herself for a moment, listening to the twin beats of his hearts before taking a deep breath.

"It's down to you, you know," Sarah smiled up at him, drinking in the sight of those blue eyes and that impossibly wide grin.

"Oh?" he questioned.

"You told me I should look at what's under my nose. And that's where he was, all along."

The Doctor leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"And when _exactly_ did I say that?"

Sarah looked into his gaze, reading the unspoken request for vital information, and then the truth hit her like a freight train. A veteran of time travel, she knew about paradoxes; and she knew what she had to tell him.

"Right after you met Alan for the first time. In my attic, in Ealing. Would you like the exact time and date, or will that do?"

The Doctor shook his head.

"Still just as cheeky, I see, Miss. Although I suppose that's Mrs now."

"Oh, I don't know; I might stick with Miss. I think I'm a bit long in the tooth to change my ways."

The Doctor grinned broadly at her and leaned in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. As he straightened back up he glanced over her head and she turned quickly to see Alan looking curiously over at them. An unspoken communication between the two men went quite literally over her head and when she turned back to the Doctor he was gathering his coat and shrugging it on.

"Goodbye," he said quietly, smiling at her with the tiniest hint of wistfulness before disappearing through the door and into the dusk.

Alan's arm slipped around her waist and he leant his chin on her shoulder.

"Time for the first dance, Sarah. Ready?"

She turned her head to press her lips against his cheek.

"Yes," she said firmly, "yes, I'm ready."

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**Clearly, I'm a romantic mood this evening Let me know what you think. **


	14. Chapter 14

**It's been a while, but I'm back on this one…. Running a little low on inspiration but of course it's autumn now. That means fireworks night, Halloween, then of course Christmas mistletoe and New Year.. Plenty of scope for some lovely clichés.**

**I should point out that the words in italics are those of William Shakespeare… just in case anyone thinks they're mine (some serious wishful thinking there!). **

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_Shakespeare_

"Alan, I really think you ought to ask someone else to do this…" Sarah Jane trailed off, her voice doubtful.

Alan's look was pleading.

"I don't have anyone else, Sarah Jane, please." he said, "Just this once and then I'll promise I'll get someone else to practise with me if I get the part."

She sighed and took the script from his hand, thumbing through it in resignation.

"Fine. When did you say the audition was?"

"Tomorrow," Alan answered. "I've been practising by myself but I just need someone else to do the lines in this scene and I can't ask Maria. And Chrissie would just laugh at me."

Sarah Jane smiled ruefully.

"I suppose this is me telling you that you needed a hobby coming back to bite me."

Alan chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose it is."

Sarah Jane glanced at the script again.

"Aren't you little bit old to be playing Romeo?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Alan clutched his chest as if wounded and she laughed, swiping at him with the paper. He defended himself and took the script back, flicking through to the right page.

"I'm not auditioning for Romeo, but they want us all to audition in pairs with the same scene."

Sarah Jane picked up her glasses and perched them on her face before glancing down at the script. She froze when she saw the words printed there.

Oh. Of course. It was _that_ scene.

Alan saw her discomfort and held up his hands.

"No kissing, I promise!" he exclaimed, crossing his heart with a finger. She chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Come on then, you start."

Alan took a deep breath and began to speak, the famous lines sounding so natural falling from his lips that for a moment Sarah Jane forgot herself and missed her cue.

"Sorry," she mumbled, scrambling for the right line and continuing the scene.

"_Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,_

_Which mannerly devotion shows in this;_

_For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,_

_And palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss."_

As she was speaking the words Sarah Jane felt Alan's fingertips find hers and it seemed the most natural thing to press their palms together as she'd seen actors do in this scene so many times before.

"_Have not saint's lips, and holy palmers too?"_

Sarah Jane gaped for a minute before recovering and carrying on.

"_Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."_

Alan took a step closer and his eyes darkened. Wow. He was good at this.

"_O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do," _he whispered softly and Sarah Jane stared up at him, frozen. He folded his fingers, lacing them through hers and moving closer still.

"_Then pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."_

Sarah Jane had to tear her eyes away from his intense gaze to read the next line, inwardly cursing herself for not having paid closer attention at school so that she might have been able to say it from memory.

"_Saints do not move though grant for prayer's sake."_

Alan's voice was barely audible.

"_Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."_

For a long moment they stared at each other, a hair's breadth away from closing the gap.

"I said no kissing," Alan whispered without moving away, his breath puffing across Sarah Jane's lips as he spoke.

"I know," she whispered back.

"Would you mind if I took that back?"

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**Apologies if there are any minor mistakes in the Shakespeare quotes there, I don't have a copy of R&J to hand and had to use an internet site. Hopefully it was correct!**


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